The tragic past of Alchemya Silverhand
by TheCoffeeWriter
Summary: This is the story of how my alchemist became the person she is today. Rated T for Death


Disclaimer: I don't own Ragnarok Online, but I own my character

Alchemya Elea Marie Silverhand (A/N: Elea is an Italian city where a philosopher once lived and Marie was the name of the chemist who invented radioactivity) sat at the rooftop balcony of the guild , looking over Prontera. She rarely left the lab unless necessarily, but when she just needed a breath of air, this was where she went. It was truly a beautiful city - so unlike Al De Baran where water flooded every street.  
No one would ever think of looking out here for her. No one really knew that there were a second balcony. It was her sanctuary and also where she put her strict, calculating and smart Alchemist attitude aside - leaving a lost, inferiority-affected and heartbroken young woman at view.

When she first came to the guild 'Fellowship of the Zeny', she had "forgotten" to tell Vincent her surname, saying it was all about qualifications and not the surname of a person. The truth was though she didn't want to be reminded of - even being related to - everything her parents was standing for and their cowardice or rather heartlessness as they never told the world about the tragedy that happened in the small family. As if it didn't matter. But it mattered to her.  
The married couple Silverhand had before her birth, been known all over Midgard for their potions and inventions, so when Mrs. Silverhand gave birth to a healthy baby girl, it was known all over the land.  
It was said that she was destined to follow the parents' footprints, so it was only obvious that already from an early upbringing she was taught academic thinking and when she failed something, she was ignored completely - frozen out by both of her parents. If she was lucky she would receive a slap across the face as the only reaction.  
Therefore she had learned to work over her abilities to succeed, just to receive a bit of praise and it had turned her into the workaholic she was today.  
The truth was that the parents were so engrossed in their work, so they had not the slightest idea of human behaviour. They knew how to handle acid bottles, but not how to comfort a crying girl.  
People only saw a pretty brilliant little girl, who was diligent in school and at home, but they didn't see the sad glimpse in the emerald green eyes.  
When she grew older - and after their mind old enough to take care of herself - 10-year-old Alchemya saw less and less to them. They were always busy with tours, conferences and lectures. She had always visited the neighbour, who was a kind older lady and when they left, Mrs. Miller took it as her duty to take young Silverhand under her wings and seemed able to teach the girl some basic human skills, kindness etc. - everything the parents could not.  
But the events in her earliest childhood had marred her deep to the core and couldn't just be undone.

It came as a shock to Alchemya, when they one year later announced that Mrs. Silverhand waited another child. She had never called them mom or dad.  
A couple of months passed and true enough, another baby girl was born to see the world. Alchemya fell in love with the little girl, who had light green hair not unlike her own and the big orbs of green staring trustingly up at her. She looked like a delicate flower and for that moment she promised that no harm would come to her little sister like it had come to her. Nothing could ever make her break that promise.  
"Let's call her Fleur!" she remembered having exclaimed eagerly. But the parents were already talking about their next project - far away from the world they lived in, so she had carefully taken the baby girl out the woman's limp arms and had cradled it close to her.  
"Hi Fleur," she had said with a mild smile "I'm your big sister Alchemya, but just say Mya - I don't mind."  
From the day on they were in-separately, Alchemya asked Mrs. Miller if she could find someone who could breastfeed the little, because Mrs. Silverhand had lost the milk. Probably because she had taken no interest in Fleur.

Another year went by and everything had reach a level of happiness, which Alchemya had never experienced before. But the happiness was short. Fleur was having problems with breathing, which made her cry all night. Her complexion getting more transparent for everyday which passed.  
Alchemya was worried - it didn't bode well.  
She took her to an expert, who gave her the worst message ever imaginable. Fleur had been born with a weak heart and it was about to give up on her. He said only time could tell how long she had left. It could be days, it could be months or even years. One thing he did know was that she needed a remedy, which could make the heart stronger, so her living years would be expanded.  
But no such thing didn't exist.  
She took the little on the arm with a feeling of hopelessness and defeat. She didn't want to lose the only thing she really loved and cared for.  
When she later that night had tugged Fleur in, she sat by the candlelight and it was then she made her decision. Even though she hated her parents' work and what they stood for, she would become an Alchemist like them. But not for fame. Not for money. Simply for the sake of her little sister.  
Same night she found the potion books and books of anatomy and diseases and finally been able to calculate which ingredients she needed for the potion.  
Next day, she travelled out to gather the items - money was the least problem - and she used all day to brew it. She succeeded.  
Fleur grew gradually better and life turned back to normal, but she had to take the medicine every morning.

Alchemya finished school and began her education as merchant. She was then 16 years old. Around same time Fleur was getting ill again. She couldn't understand what had happened. She went to the expert, who told her that the 5-year-old girl had gotten an infection. A deadly one of that. Every potion she made, didn't work.  
Even though she didn't want to do it, she sought help at her parents, who just sent her away, telling her that Fleur had become her problem and they couldn't do anything.  
"You can't go against nature." they said.  
Alchemya could only watch the small girl got worse and one day the little girl slept in, in her arms. She was absolutely devastated.

If her goal had been to become an alchemist for her sister, it now changed to all humans in generally, not wanting anyone to experience what she had been through.  
She closed off from anyone, even Mrs. Miller. She also locked her emotions away, so she would never experience such a pain ever again. She became calculating, somewhat cold and a busy body, trying to save everybody - her way of coping with the death of Fleur. But the truth was that she never came over it.  
Alchemya thought that focusing on the work was better than being in a relationship. She couldn't. Not when she had seen how her parents had been like.

At last when she became an Alchemist as 20-years-old, she learned about Humunculus. Kellasus had been worried when she asked - and with good reason. She did what he had told her not too: creating an image of a deceased person. It was for the better if one just let the dead rest in peace. Remembering them for the good things they had done.  
She had in the progress of making an embryo blended some strands of Fleurs hair in it and created a Lif with an uncanny similarity with her dead sister. It therefore also was given the name Fleur. Now they could always stay together.


End file.
